


Consequences

by dessert_first



Category: due South
Genre: Ficlet, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dessert_first/pseuds/dessert_first
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, no you don't!" Ray jabbed two fingers into Fraser's chest. "You do not get to pawn this off on American customs. This is some Canadian thing, because if we had done this the American way, we woulda been knocking boots by now. Instead, here you are, hiding out. In Canada."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hurry_sundown](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hurry_sundown).



> Stocking-stuffer gift ficlet for Hurry Sundown.

**Consequences**

"You kissed me!" Ray accused.

"Well, ah," Fraser tugged at the collar of his longjohns. The much-washed flannel lacked the satisfying resistance his uniform offered. "I wouldn't say _'kissed'_."

Ray crossed his arms tightly, hunching in on himself. "Oh, no? What would you call it, then? 'Cause Fraser, I may not have been around the block that many times, but I've sure as hell been kissed before, and that—that was a kiss, okay? A kiss."

It really had been too much, Fraser supposed, to hope that this confrontation could be bypassed entirely. Unfortunately, two weeks of studiously avoiding both the twenty-seventh precinct and Ray's calls had only led to Ray appearing at the Consulate's doorstep at an extremely unreasonable hour on a Thursday night. Fraser stood aside, letting him in. Ray stepped in warily, like a boxer sizing up the ring.

"Ray," Fraser sighed. "I explained—"

"No," Ray said. "No, you did not. You _avoided_. And then you ran. And do you know what that means, Fraser? You know what we gotta do now?"

Fraser rather hoped it didn't involve punching each other again. "I—that is… I'm afraid I have no idea, Ray."

"We have to _talk about our relationship_ , Fraser!" Ray threw up his hands. "We have to _discuss_ our _feelings!_ That is not buddies!"

"Well, I'm very sorry to put you through that, Ray," Fraser offered cautiously. "I know how you feel about your feelings."

"No, you do not, Fraser! You do not know how I feel about my feelings, because I don't feel like talking about them! That is the American way."

"Ah. Right you are. Well, perhaps it was simply a cultural misunderstanding that led to this—"

"Oh, no you don't!" Ray jabbed two fingers into Fraser's chest. "You do not get to pawn this off on American customs. This is some Canadian thing, because if we had done this the American way, we woulda been knocking boots by now. Instead, here you are, hiding out. In Canada. Well, fine!" He stalked over to the Consulate sitting room and didn't so much _sit_ on the couch as throw himself onto it, slump down into the cushions and cross his arms, glaring at Fraser. "Here I am. Let's _talk._ "

Diefenbaker wandered in, assessed the situation, and leapt gracefully onto the couch, settling in beside Ray, who scratched his ears. Dief had certainly made his own opinion on the matter abundantly clear to Fraser over the last two weeks. It seemed he was to have no peace from any quarter.

"Very well, Ray." Fraser's body automatically settled into parade rest, hands neatly clasped behind his back. "I hope you know how much I value your friendship. I feel honored to call you my partner and my friend. I am delighted to be able to spend time with you in virtually any capacity or venue—and I am certain if I do not acquire a taste for punk rock I can simply purchase some earplugs for the next concert."

Dief whined in apparent disagreement, but Fraser forged ahead.

"I deeply admire your commitment to your job and to the safety of the citizens of Chicago, your intellect, your keen detective skills, and your insights, Ray. On a more personal note, I also admire your compassion, your propensity for wearing your heart on your sleeve, and your dancing. Also… did you say if I hadn't run we would have been 'knocking boots' by now?"

Ray's face had softened. "Yeah," he said.

"Oh. And, by 'knocking boots,' you do mean—"

"Yeah," Ray said. "That's what I mean."

"I… see." Fraser's body fairly thrummed with energy, a fight or flight response. "So then, I take it you no longer—"

"Frase," Ray stood, fluidly unfolding himself from the couch, and crossed over to him. "Can we be Canadian about this later?"

And then he kissed him.


End file.
